


Yield

by wonderluck



Category: Alien: Resurrection (1997), Firefly, Serenity (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-19
Updated: 2013-09-19
Packaged: 2017-12-27 00:46:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/972329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderluck/pseuds/wonderluck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While cooped up on the ship, Call passes the time by observing Ripley.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yield

**Author's Note:**

> For bingo prompts AU - Fusion and power play.

After repairing the ship and returning to the black, the crew tried to find a way to subsist. Stealing was dangerous – the USM had finally joined with the Alliance, so the central planets were crawling with even more guards than before – but it was necessary. The crew did have an advantage in _The Betty_ : she'd always been an unregistered ship that stayed near the edge of the 'Verse and the border planets. 

Running near empty on fuel and food, the crew turned to staking out Alliance fueling stations. They deemed USM stations too risky as they were covered by a higher number of surveillance cameras than the Alliance and armed to the teeth after the downing of one of their ships.

After days of silent observation with the ship's engines cut, Call worked out the timing of the stations' shift changes. Her job was to connect and slip undetected into the system while Johner stood ready to refuel the ship. Ripley would make her way to any food stores she could find. By the time they were found out, if at all, Vriess would already be pulling away from the platform. 

Following their last refuel, they'd been laying low and conserving their resources. They drifted for weeks on end. 

While cooped up on the ship, Call passed the time by observing Ripley. Ripley didn't need much sleep to function and had incredible amounts of excess energy, often resorting to wind sprints in the cargo bay to wear herself down. She could be mischievous like a teenager and had a penchant for asking abrupt questions while Call brought her up to speed on the last 200 years. 

"I worked at a research facility run by a shadow group within the Alliance," Call said. "Androids had historically been used to carry out tasks that humans found menial or unethical, so when they bought me, there was no reason to think my model was any different. The things they wanted us to do … it amounted to torture." Call's eyes narrowed. "They didn't know that some of our creators got human help and programmed us to understand the concepts of independence and loyalty to one another." 

"A 'fuck you' to the industry," Ripley mused, and Call nodded.

They traded questions about their lives. How much did Ripley remember? What had the scientists let slip about her biology? Ripley wanted to know if Call had had "family," friends.

"A boyfriend?" Ripley inquired with a playful smirk. 

Call scowled. 

Ripley quirked her head to one side and raked her eyes over Call. "Girlfriend?"

An image of Ripley entwined with her own body flashed through Call's neural network like a dream. She pressed her lips together and averted her gaze to one side. 

Ripley chuckled and dropped the subject.

***

They played basketball once a day, bonding over their mutual boredom and a healthy dose of competition. It was a long process, though, with Ripley's instincts and Call's precise calculations of Ripley's next move, making it near impossible for either of them to score against each other. 

Ripley was naturally aggressive. She used her superior height to crowd Call and her long arms to block shot after shot. Legal defensive plays allowed Ripley to put her hands on Call more as they progressed. It started with Ripley placing her hand on the small of Call's back to follow her movements as she guarded from behind. It evolved into Ripley pressing near intimately against her as she followed Call's backward press, chest to shoulders. Call would falter every time, and Ripley began to capitalize on this. 

As Call grew wise, Ripley tweaked her strategy until, frustrated, she resorted to stealing the ball by blowing a stream of air onto the nape of Call's neck. Upon scoring, Ripley called out the score, beyond satisfied with herself. 

"Ripley," Call said, rubbing the back of her furiously tingling neck, frowning. "That's cheating." She paused as she searched her memory stores. "I think."

"Sore loser?" Ripley taunted. She winked and spun the ball on one finger before passing it to Call for another go.

Call threw the ball back hard. "I'm done for today," she said and tried to remain steady as she departed, leaving Ripley to stare at her retreating form curiously.

***

The next day, Call returned to the court with a new determination. 

Ripley was warming up, moving at a speed Call hadn't seen from her before. She charged the hoop and slammed the ball through, landing on the ground and panting for air like she'd been practicing for hours. Her skin flushed with exertion, a thin sheen of perspiration visible; it never failed to fascinate Call. Her own skin never changed temperature.

Ripley's stance was tense, her movements overly tight. Call couldn't find any reason for it. They'd picked up a transmission that Reavers were pillaging nearby planets, but Vriess had set a prompt course away from the area. They were in no real danger.

"Ripley?"

Ripley stood up straight, seeming to shake off whatever had been bothering her. She handed the ball over to Call without a word and got into position. 

Call plotted her path to the basket, pivoting and switching up her direction at random, trying to throw Ripley off. Ripley was glued to her. 

After a high block, Ripley had control of the ball. Call smiled to herself as she closed in, and Ripley shot her a challenging gaze. Call followed Ripley's every move, eyes searching her face for weakness as she tried to drive left, but Call was there to meet her, blocking her path. Ripley spun on her heel and pushed back aggressively, jostling Call. Call leaned forward and absorbed the backward press, a solid obstacle to Ripley's route – a blatant foul, but she knew Ripley wouldn't call her on it. 

Call was done playing by the rules. 

Ripley turned forward and gritted her teeth. Call raised her eyebrows in mock innocence. She tried to push past Call, but Call blocked her again with her full body, so close that her nose brushed the base of Ripley's throat. 

As Ripley backed away, the ever-present intent look on her face during their games slipped away, lips unconsciously parting. She raked the hair out of her face.

Ripley turned her back once more to protect the ball, only to have Call place a hand low on her hip. Ripley visibly started, but kept control of the ball. 

Call was determined to get the reaction she was looking for. She slid her hand from Ripley's hip toward her front, encircling Ripley's waist as she tried to find an opening to shoot. Ripley inhaled sharply and her footsteps stuttered. Call reached with her other hand and feigned an attempt to steal the ball. Ripley almost lost control of it, barely managing to turn into Call and shoot toward the hoop.

She missed. The ball sailed a good foot to one side of the backboard, not even close.

Ripley never missed.

Call saw Ripley's hands tremble as she turned and stalked out of the room without a word.

Ripley wasn't waiting for Call on the court the next day. Or the day after that.

***

Ripley was agitated. She rejected Vriess' requests to help with the communications system. He was trying to reconfigure the ship's older system to send a wave should they happen upon a possible ally. Ripley had gladly lost herself in the project earlier, gratified to have something useful to do. Now she wanted no part of it.

Her moods rapidly shifted. Her interactions with Call changed. Call noticed her distance immediately – no more late night chats on the bridge, their verbal exchanges limited to a few words at meals before Ripley retreated to the cargo bay for sprints and push-ups. 

And then there was Ripley's anger; it built inside her until it boiled beneath her skin. She isolated herself in her room and snapped at the crew without any provocation. 

The night Call began to panic, convinced Ripley's alien nature was overtaking her human side, she entered Ripley's room. She didn't bother knocking. 

She found Ripley distressed, wringing her hands and pacing the room like she wanted to wear a hole in the floor. She didn't acknowledge Call's entrance.

"What's wrong?" Call asked. 

She slowly approached Ripley. Ripley's jaw set firm and she shook her head, refusing to answer. Call could see the pulse pounding at her jugular.

Call put a light hand on her shoulder. "Will you tell me what's wrong?"

Ripley shook her off and refused to meet her eye. "You should go."

Call's brows knitted together. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Get out," Ripley said.

Call stood up straight, thrusting her chin out defiantly. "And if I don't?"

Ripley bared her teeth and advanced on Call, pushing her until her back hit the wall. Ripley closed her eyes and when she opened them again, the pupils had taken over her irises, her eyes appearing all black. A deadly smile spread across her face. 

Call felt a twinge of fear. 

Ripley held Call against the wall by her shoulders, dipping her head down toward Call's neck, lips almost touching skin as she breathed in her scent.

Ripley pulled back. Call watched her tongue dart out to wet her lips and couldn't look away from her mouth. She wanted those lips on her neck, wanted her hands and mouth. She stared as Ripley's lips moved, but she couldn't hear the words.

Ripley pinned her under a predatory stare, thumbs stroking Call's collarbone, nails pressing harder until Call nearly winced with the possibility of sliced skin.

"Do you even have the right parts?" Ripley asked, one hand closing over Call's throat while the other flicked at the zipper pull to her jumpsuit.

Call didn't flinch. "I'm nearly undetectable from humans," she spat back, pushing her away with both hands to her chest.

Ripley came back to herself, shaking her head. "Leave," she said, her voice gruff. "I don't want to hurt you." 

Call did not move.

" _Leave_ , Call." 

Call watched the pained desperation flow through Ripley. She couldn't go.

"You won't hurt me." Call softened her voice. "I'll make sure you can't." 

Ripley only stared.

Call gestured to Ripley's clothes and tried not to let her voice waver. "Take those off." 

Ripley hesitated a moment, hands shaking as she pulled off each item. She looked relieved. 

Call couldn't conceal her overt admiration. She stripped down to her underwear, shy as Ripley stood confidently naked. She climbed onto the bed and knelt, holding out her hand. Ripley took it and Call pulled her, using the momentum to cause her to land on her stomach.

Call crawled on top of her quickly, allowing Ripley to feel her solid mass holding her down from the base of her neck to her Achilles tendons. She was heavier than she looked. 

She felt Ripley tense as if readying for a fight, and Call wondered if she'd played this wrong, if she should've felt more trepidation. 

"Think you can tame me?" Ripley asked, a low growl, and Call could sense the mocking, razor sharp smile without having to see it.

Call's processors searched for the right response, and she tried to drum up believable bravado. "Think I'll touch you if you don't behave?"

She watched Ripley's fists clench and release, once, twice. She waited.

Ripley laid her palms open against the bed.

"You can control it," Call said with more authority than she actually felt.

She pressed her body tighter against Ripley and enjoyed the new sensation. She'd never felt real skin against her own, not like this. She turned her head and rubbed her cheek against Ripley's back. 

Call moved without over-thinking. She knew the monster could be reined in, shoved back into the recesses of Ripley's mind, once the human part was tapped and forced to the forefront. 

Call climbed off Ripley and settled her knees between Ripley's thighs, pushing them apart as far as they'd go, making her gasp. She leaned forward and placed a firm hand on the back of Ripley's neck, squeezing lightly for a moment before leaning half her weight on her arm, knowing she couldn't hurt Ripley, but making her intent clear. Ripley's body jerked against the bed. 

Call kept her hand secure in place as her other hand slipped between Ripley's legs. She teased her with light touches on her inner thighs, moving up to stroke the sensitive crease where thigh met pelvis. 

"Put your hands under your hips," Call commanded.

Ripley left her hands where they were.

Call leaned hard against her neck, simultaneously dipping her fingers just barely inside Ripley. Ripley's breath stuttered and she pushed her hips back. Call forced herself to withdraw her fingers. She waited for compliance.

"Don't make me make you," Call echoed Ripley's line back to her. There was no time for gentle coaxing. She couldn't let the monster fight its way back to the surface.

Ripley placed both hands under her, fingers settling below her hips. 

Call stroked her neck comfortingly and then resumed her grip. She only teased for a moment before sliding her fingers back inside. Ripley closed her mouth over a moan and writhed against the bed as Call began to thrust inside her. A twist of fingers on an inward thrust made her jaw fall open. 

Call felt heat rising from Ripley's skin and it clouded her thoughts. She wanted to fall onto Ripley and ravish her.

"Lift up," she said instead, tapping her tail bone. 

When Ripley complied, raising her hips higher than Call had intended, Call felt a rush of heat. Her receptors fired, making her skin feel electrified. She fought the overwhelming urge to suck the fingers on her other hand and then fill Ripley completely. 

She reached beneath Ripley and took hold of one of her wrists, guiding the hand down Ripley's front to come to rest between her legs. She directed her fingers with expert precision before pressing a hand against Ripley's tail bone again, pushing her back down. 

Ripley let out a quivering breath, hips falling back to the bed, grinding hard against her fingers. Call watched raptly and squeezed her own thighs together as she set a solid pace inside her.

Ripley's movements were frantic: down against her fingers, back onto Call's. She was graceful even in her desperation, movements fluid and serpent-like; in that moment, her mixed DNA shined through. 

Call chewed her lip and marveled at the state she'd brought Ripley to. She'd never felt more powerful. She wanted Ripley at her complete mercy. Shifting awkwardly with both hands occupied, she managed to place her knees on Ripley's thighs. Ripley groaned, raw in her throat. She struggled against the increased restriction, but relinquished the fight as Call's fingers moved faster.

Ripley's lips moved, but uttered no sound. Call thought it looked like "please," but knew she imagined it because it was exactly what she wanted Ripley to say. She felt a sharp spike of pleasure at the thought. 

Ripley sucked in a breath. She pressed her face into the mattress and released a long, muffled cry. She shuddered against the bed, thighs twitching under Call's weight. 

Call didn't release her until her body went limp, and then she was frantic herself, all burn and aching need. She brought herself off quickly as she stared at Ripley's prone form. Falling forward, she groaned her release against Ripley's low back.

As she came back to herself, she shifted up to place a kiss between Ripley's shoulders. "Sleep now."

Ripley, exhausted, did as she was told.

***

Vriess had a number of favors to call in once they reached the world his business partners had been known to frequent. During a job together, they'd managed to step on Adelai Niska's toes. Niska, a ruthless man, had singled Vriess out at random and snapped his spine – a warning to them to never cross him again.

The intercom came to life, rousing Call and Ripley from sleep. Vriess declared he'd set a course for Dyton and needed Ripley on the bridge. 

Ripley hugged Call tighter against her body and made no move to leave. 

"Ripley," Call prompted with a hint of humor in her voice, patting Ripley's arm.

"No," Ripley said groggily.

"He'll send Johner for you."

Call laughed softly as Ripley flopped onto her back, defeated. She turned and propped her head on her hand, arm bent at the elbow, and watched Ripley start to pull her clothes on. 

After lacing up a boot, Ripley turned back and gave a small smile. She leaned down to kiss Call gently. 

Call beamed.

"I won't be long," she said, and Call nodded.

Call settled her head back against the pillow, and Ripley pulled the blanket up higher to cover her bare shoulder, smoothing her hand along the fabric before she turned to leave.

Call's smile didn't fade until she fell asleep long after Ripley had gone.


End file.
